Pawn
by Madame Plot Bunnie
Summary: That was it. She was as good off as dead. She had just become a prisoner, the hostage of Draco Malfoy. 'But there are instances, Hermione, when even pawns can become queens...'
1. Prologue: Setting Up The Pieces

**PAWN**

****

_Prologue_

   Expectations were funny things.

What was expected became what was predicted. What was predicted became assumed.

What was assumed went to ruin.

   The Wizarding world's expectation of Harry Potter was thus: at the end of his seventh year, he was to face Voldemort, the terror of the modern world, one final time, _mano a mano, _for the glory of the Order of the Phoenix, and in the name of all that was good. 

   They were wrong.

For Voldemort had become unforeseeable. His tactics, his plans, his methods, were all changed overnight. His activities quieted, his Death Eaters all but disappeared. The very air the Wizarding World had breathed was tense. For months, the castle of Hogwarts sat in anxious silence, waiting for the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

   Days and weeks past. Harry Potter became withdrawn to his schoolmates. Albus Dumbledore had all but locked the Order in his study for perpetual planning. The summer heat drifted into England and seemed to smother any joy that had been left by spring.

   The school was urged to carry on as usual. The seventh years studied for and took their N.E.W.T.s, they anxiously counted off their remaining days in the castle, and then, before they knew it, Graduation had come and seen them all to the Hogwarts Express. 

   Harry Potter retuned home to Little Whinging, exam results came by mail, closely followed by job offers of every sort, and the summer heat dissolved into the crispness of fall. The _Daily Prophet _began to run articles on the Chudley Cannon's new season line up and business in Diagon Alley picked up again. Tentative life unfolded; a sense of bland security was created.

   It was exactly what Voldemort had been waiting for.

It had been said by many sources (each more unreliable than the next) that Voldemort appeared in the Square at Diagon Alley a quarter past midnight on October 31st; Halloween Night, with two dozen Death Eaters in his train. The party seemed to have predetermined orders, the witnesses said, because they split up. And that was when the pillaging began.

   Shops were burned to the ground. By the time Aurors arrived there were already 37 causalities, 24 of them dead. Women and children shrieked, and few stayed to fight. The sound of broken glass tinkled through the night where it mingled with the sounds of thrown curses and the crackling of fires. The Death Eaters Disapperated soon after the place had burnt to the ground, leaving 13 of the 24 Aurors dead.

   It wasn't what they Wizarding World had expected. But it had come. 

   Voldemort and his minions spent the next month slowly regaining control. There were two to three raids on villages nightly. The last strongholds became St. Mungo's, The Ministry of Magic, and Hogwarts.

   Harry Potter was joined at Hogwarts by the Order of the Phoenix, former members of the D.A., and his best friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Slowly the castle filled with torn families, determined young fighters, and what few Aurors the Ministry could spare. No one could be expected to break through this stronghold.

   It was an expectation…but not a fact. 

***

Well. How bout that now. 

   Good stuff to come, but reviews make me write faster! (Where's the love, y'all?)

*Mme


	2. Chapter One: Into The Darkness

PAWN 

A low moan like a wounded animal echoed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. The trees shook violently, their barren limbs looking like outstretched arms waving in the frigid December winds.

   Chief Sentinel Gregory Capps shivered slightly as he looked out over the land of what used to be Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't like those trees—never had. They hid more Dark magic than even Albus Dumbledore knew about.

   Capps fastened the long, standard military blue cloak around his shoulders and blew on his hands. The wind howled again. It was an unreasonably cold December, even for England. He peered up at the sky; gray clouds swirled, holding the threat of snow. The clouds didn't seem so far above Capps's position atop the Astronomy Tower.

   Or, what had formerly been the Astronomy Tower, when Hogwarts had still been a normally operating school. True, it still held students, but learning was informal. Now it was in likeness, a veritable fortress, protecting witches and wizards alike from the impending threat of Voldemort and his Death Eater army. 

   Capps shivered again, though not from the cold. It was not even two months ago that attacks had started, on that Halloween night in Diagon Alley. But the Dark Lord had lost no time in making a swift comeback. His attacks had been well thought out, logical, and precise. His method changed and his horizons broadened. His enemies had been unprepared, and unable to fight back in their weakened state. They were thus driven to the few existing strongholds: St. Mungo's Hospital in London, along with the Ministry of Magic downtown, and Hogwarts.

   Gregory Capps's own home had been destroyed. Capps grimaced at the painful memory. He had been coming back from the Centaur's Hoof, the local pub in a wizarding village not far from Liverpool, when he saw it: a huge, green skull with a serpent crawling from its mouth, hovering fifty feet above his house. His mother, father, and brother had all died. 

   That was when he enlisted in Dumbledore's Army and was deployed to Hogwarts. 

Capps shook off his painful memories. He'd been promoted eight times in the last week. Hogwarts wasn't protected with more than former students, the Order members, and the occasional Auror. He'd been put on Sentinel duty late last night…Capps checked his pocket watch. It was nearly eight in the morning. 

   Capps yawned and stretched his head upward. In doing so, a flash of red caught his eye. His head whipped around to face the Forest fully. 

   And then he saw them.

   Legions of Death Eaters began to Apparated through the trees. Cloaked in their new blood-red robes, and unmasked for the first time in history…

   _Wait. Apparated?_

Capps fumbled for his wand. Frantically, he turned to the other sentinels 100 yards away.

   "DEATH EATERS!" Capps screamed. The other sentinels looked to the Forest in terror. "Alert Dumbledore NOW!" Capps ordered. A young watchman ran down the stairs.

   Capps looked down on the grounds. The Death Eaters began streaming out of the trees. Capps knew what he had to do. 

   "We must hold them off!" He shouted. "Fire on my orders!" The other sentinels readied themselves, wands at firing position. "One," Capps cried. "Two!" 

   A volley of green light shot up the castle's walls, and Gregory Capps didn't make it to three. 

***

   Hermione Granger sat with a full deck of Exploding Snap cards in front of her. A fire cackled in the Great Hall's hearth as she sat with a small group at the head of the former Gryffindor table.

   Harry sat across from her, as well as Ron and Ginny. In the month they had been trapped inside Hogwarts, Hermione had tried to make the time pass easier by teaching groups of children (and her friends) how to play Muggle card games with the Exploding Snap pack. Ron and Harry had particularly liked Poker, for the deck began to smolder if anyone was bluffing too badly. 

   "Royal straight _flush_," Hermione said with a grin, laying down her cards. Harry's emerald eyes widened to roughly the size of teacups, while Ron did an impression of a goldfish.

   "I don't understand how the girl does it," Ron said, shoving the chips toward a triumphant Hermione. "That makes the eighth time you've beat us this week," he added as an afterthought.

   "I think she's trying to run us broke," Ginny said. The somber group gave a little laugh.

   Hermione glanced around the hall as she magically swept the cards into a pile. Families sat huddled in every corner, men, women, and children of all ages. Hermione had been terrified when she received an order to join her friends at her Alma matter. The time of Voldemort left little room for disobedience, though.

   From somewhere across the hall, a baby shrieked. Hermione sighed. The people were not happy. The Ministry was doing little to engage Voldemort's army in battle; it was rumored Cornelius Fudge had fled the country and was hiding somewhere in France.  Dumbledore had scarcely been seen by anyone who was not in the Order, but he had members of his Army running the castle/fortress to keep the people from becoming worrisome. 

   Hermione fingered the crest on her robes. Like the ones she had worn attending the castle in her school days (hard to believe it was only four months ago she graduated) they were standard black, but in place of the Gryffindor crest above the left breast, there was an embroidered phoenix in all its glory with the words _Respice Finem—_"look to the end"—in scrawling scarlet script. It was the official uniform of Dumbledore's Army.

   The wind howled and Hermione jumped. It sounded like screams, wild screams. 

Ron frowned. "Is that the wind?" he asked, his blue eyes alert. 

Ginny gave a timid grin and brushed it off, looking outside. "I'm sure it's nothing," she said reassuringly, seemingly to her brother. But everyone had seen Harry tense at the first moan of wind. Hermione brushed her still-slightly-frizzy head of hair back into a ponytail, frowning slightly. It didn't sound like _wind. _

   Harry stood and walked over to a window near their table. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all exchanged a look. Harry had been very stressful and anxious lately. He wavered between feeling heroic and ready to face Voldemort to quiet, withdrawn, and sometimes even harsh. His strained behavior had been the source of many late night conversations between Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley.

   "Harry," Hermione sighed. "I'm sure we're all fine." 

Harry didn't turn back from the window. "How do we know, Hermione?" he asked quietly. Another howl tore through the air. Harry's black hair seemed to stand on end. Hermione could feel her heartbeat double. 

   Ginny stood with Hermione. "They couldn't be here. Dumbledore has spells, wards…Harry, the Death Eaters aren't going to break in," the redhead said soothingly. Harry didn't say anything. Ginny turned to Hermione helplessly, and shrugged.

   "Go talk to him," Hermione whispered, her brown eyes glancing sorrowfully at their troubled friend. "You're the only one who can get through to him sometimes, Ginny." Ginny nodded, and she walked over to the window.

   Hermione sank down to the table and put her head in her hands. She wanted to cry but knew she couldn't, with the others in the room. She felt Ron sit next to her.

   "Hermione?" he asked, peeking under her hands. He took one of her hands in his. "Come on now, Hermione," Ron murmured, pulling the hand away from Hermione's face. Ron's eyes were concerned. Hermione allowed the tears to fall reluctantly. 

   Ron engulfed her in a hug. "Hermione, come one, that's a girl." 

   _I shouldn't be doing this, _Hermione thought angrily. _I'm stronger than this, I know it! _

Right now her emotions were overflowing, leaving her out of control. There were too many worries for Hermione—taking care of people, the Order, the army…

   Hermione sniffed and wiped her tears, pulling back from Ron's protective bear hug. Ron grinned at her, pulling a handkerchief out of his robe pocket. "Hermione," he said carefully. "We're all in this for each other. For our families. For Harry," Ron gestured over to Harry and Ginny by the windowsill. He gave a tiny double take as he saw his sister give Harry a swift peck on the cheek. Hermione saw it too and smiled. 

   "When do you think he'll propose?" Hermione asked playfully, giving Ron a joking, watery smile. 

Ron blanched. "Ginny is _seventeen _years old! Did Harry—"

   Hermione shushed her best friend. "Ron, quiet. I was only joking."

Ron gave a sheepish grin and clasped a hand to the back of his neck. "Well…I daresay Mum would be happy…Harry's practically a son anyway," Ron muttered. Hermione gave a small smile. There was definitely a little bit of _something_ going on between their best friend and Ron's sister…but no one was saying anything about it.

   Another hiss and shriek of wind tore through the quiet air. Hermione jumped as she heard shouts. She threw a glance out the window but couldn't see anything. _Something is definitely not right today, _Hermione thought quickly.

   The answer as to what came scant seconds later, as Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks burst through the Great Hall's doors, faces flushed and wands ready. Both looked extremely alarmed.

   "Children and elderly down to the dungeons!" Lupin shouted, his voice magically amplified and his gray hair in a state if disarray. Women and children shrieked and people began pouring out of the Great Hall for an exit. Everyone knew a warning like that meant one thing.

   Voldemort.

"Go!" Tonks shouted. She then turned to the four in the corner. "Follow me!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all bolted after Tonks, following the scarlet-headed beacon out of the hall. They stopped abruptly when Tonks signaled, panting.

   "Tonks, what's happening?" Ginny cried.

Tonks held up a hand. "Listen," she breathed, "We don't know how it happened, but the Dark Lord managed to Apparate onto the grounds, and he's got nearly his whole army with him."

   Harry's face paled considerably, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

"How did he manage this?" she asked. 

   Tonks shook her red head frantically. "There's no time, Hermione. We have to get out there, and fast. Kingsley's already got his quadrant out there but the Death Eaters are fighting hard. You all stick together," Tonks said. She glared. "Do you hear me? All of you protect Harry!" 

   Harry scowled but Tonks was already sprinting down the hallway. The four pulled out their wands and ran after her. As they got to the exit, the doors burst open and a bloody middle-aged wizard stumbled past them. Tonks lead them all outside, and it amazed Hermione.

   "Go!" Tonks screamed, before disappearing into the hailstorm of thrown curses and flashing lights. 

   Harry turned to them. "You heard her…let's go," he said.

   Hermione nodded. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a Death Eater running toward the open castle doors.

  _"Stupefy!" _she cried. The Death Eater fell down the stairs, Stunned. Hermione turned back to Harry and Ron, only to find that they had already been separated. She shook it off—they all had to be on their guard. 

   Another red-cloaked Death Eater came running toward her, an insane grin of his face. Hermione couldn't hear what he said, but a flash of green light came out of his wand. She dropped to the snow-covered ground and rolled through a pair of legs. She popped up again with a mouthful of snow, but continued to run. She heard a scream from behind her and turned to see Stewart Ackerly fall in a crumpled heap onto the snow. His head lolled to one side. He was dead.

   Hermione saw the Death Eater that killed him run in the other direction. _"Avada Kedavera!" _ She cried. Jet green light shot out of her wand and the Death Eater didn't even see the cause of his own death. Hermione barely paused to reflect on it; in this business, it was either _kill, or be killed. _

"Hermione! Look out!"

The shout came from Lupin, who was motioning at the Death Eaters charging from Hagrid's hut, which was now ablaze. Hermione grabbed the nearest member of Dumbledore's Army and began to throw curses.   Blood splattered onto the snow around them as the Death Eaters continued to hit members of the Light.

   _This isn't working! _Hermione thought frantically. _Where are all these Death Eaters coming from? _

Just then an explosion rocked the castle, and the doors of the entrance hall were blown away. A loud cry was heard from within as a dozen Death Eaters rushed in. Hermione turned in horror and began to run toward the castle doors at top speed. She was nearly up the stairs when an arm was thrown out in front of her. 

   "Hermione!" The arms grabbed her. She spun to see that it was Harry. He had blood running down one arm and dirt was smeared across his face, and he looked worried. He grabbed onto Hermione's shoulders. "Hermione, listen to me!" he said sternly. Hermione stopped. "You can't go in there. Hogwarts will fall, Hermione. Make sure you and Ron get out of here."

   Hermione's eyes widened as she saw Harry's emerald eyes on fire. "Harry, you're coming with us!" she cried frantically, grabbing his arm as he made his way to the castle. Harry shook his head, smiling a little. 

   "He's up there, Hermione," Harry said softly. Hermione looked up at the castle, terrified. Harry nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it. "I have to go, Hermione. I can end all this."

   Hermione squeezed back. "Then let me stay, Harry," she said gently. "It's our battle too."

Harry shook his head 'no.' "Hermione, the Death Eaters will kill any Muggle born they kind. I'm not risking another person I love to that," he said firmly. Hermione's eyes watered. She reached up and threw her arms around Harry, who gave her a hug and a swift kiss on the cheek. He pulled away abruptly as another shriek came from within.

   "Go, Hermione," Harry said, his green eyes both sorrowful and oddly calm. "Look after Ginny for me. Don't look back." He nudged Hermione in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione took a few tentative steps before she stopped again.

   Harry motioned her away. "I'm sending Ron and Ginny after you if I find them," Harry called. "Take care of them for us…and don't look back, Hermione, go!"

   A Death Eater popped out of the bushes and threw an _Avada Kedavera _at Hermione. It missed her by scant inches, but Harry quickly took care of him. Hermione turned to thank him, but all she saw was his robes disappearing into the castle.

Hermione mentally shook herself and took off at top speed for the Forest. The cold stung her face and snow stuck to her eyelashes as she crunched through leaves. Then she heard voices behind her.

   "Ay, Goyle! Nott! There goes one!" 

Hermione gulped and took a peek behind her. Crabbe and Goyle came lumbering through the Forest after her, looking like great moving boulders, with Theodore Nott leading the way. Hermione ducked behind a tree and rolled underneath a bush.

   She tried to regain her breath but fell silent as three pairs of footsteps, two loud and one soft, came lumbering past her hiding spot seconds later. Hermione could identify Nott as he slowly walked past her. 

   "Hey, where'd she go?" Crabbe asked stupidly, looking around. They shuffled through the snow and wet leaves. Hermione held her breath as Nott's boots appeared next to her bush. Nott's deep voice could be heard.

   "You all…look that way," he said in an authorial tone. "I'll go this way." A moment later, their footsteps had died away through the snow. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and untangled her bushy brown hair from the bush and crawled out. She pulled her wand into her palm.

   "_Point Me,_" Hermione whispered, looking nervously around her. According to her wand, she was currently headed west. She knew of a clearing in the eastern tip of the forest by the lake, where she could easily Apparate safely to Ministry Headquarters. Hermione pulled the snow-soaked hair out of her eyes and turned east. 

   The forest was dark, even for mid afternoon. Hermione lit the tip of her wand, which gave off a dim light, falling in soft beams upon the thin layer of snow. She walked for fifteen minutes, thinking about Harry and the destruction of Voldemort, and her own shame at running away. 

   Finally she reached the clearing. The dark trees of the Forest loomed high above her. Hermione paused. _This could be the very last time I stand at Hogwarts,_ Hermione thought morosely. _I can't believe my home of seven years can be destroyed so easily. _Her depressing train of thought, however, was broken when Crabbe and Goyle lumbered through the trees not to far off. Hermione gasped. Crabbe looked ahead through the trees and punched Goyle on the shoulder.

   'There she is!" he cried loudly. The duo began crashing through the bramble and snow to get to Hermione.

   "Oh, shit," Hermione cried to herself. She figured her only option was to run, but she quickly dispelled that option as she saw Nott running at her in the opposite direction. Hermione whipped out her wand and cried, "_Stupefy!_" The jet of red light hit Crabbe square on and he fell to the snow with a loud "thud."

   Hermione gave a small sigh of relief as Goyle turned to look dumbly at his fallen partner. He looked up at Hermione. "Hey," he cried angrily, "you can't do that!"

   Hermione rolled her eyes. "Says who?" she asked before Stunning Goyle as well. Hermione smirked in satisfaction and raised her wand in preparation to Apparate, when a hand grabbed her wrist from behind.

   "Ah, ah, ah," Nott's deep voice said in her ear. He twisted Hermione's wrist so she had to turn to face him.

Theodore Nott had been in their year at Hogwarts, a Slytherin, obviously. Although he'd been rather quiet, he was now a very powerful Death Eater. He was tall, and very light-footed, with tan hair and green-yellow eyes. _And a very powerful grip on my wrist, _Hermione thought as Nott gripped her other wrist with his other hand. 

   "No, no, Granger…" he said, grabbing her wand out of her hand. Hermione felt her heart leap into her throat. She felt so vulnerable without her weapon! She watched sullenly as Nott slipped her wand into the pocket of his crimson Death Eater's robe, smirking.

   Hermione heard the snapping of twigs, but tried to concentrate of what was before her: a very precarious predicament. She had been _so sure _she wasn't going to get caught, that she'd be able to double back and help Harry. And look where that had gotten her!

Nott jerked Hermione out of her thoughts. "Where is the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, Granger?" he asked.

   _At least he's not trying to beat around the bush, _Hermione thought glumly. She pulled a defiant look, her eyes narrow and her lips tight. Nott whipped out his own wand.

   "I have ways of making you talk, Mudblood," he whispered, his greenish eyes boring into hers. Hermione blinked and looked away, remembering what Harry had said about _Ligilemins. _Nott grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "Speak, Mudblood! Where are the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?!" Nott shouted.

   Hermione felt as though she were going to be ill. She didn't open her mouth, didn't move, and didn't blink. Nott let out a growl and threw her to the ground. Hermione cried out as her arm landed under her. She pulled out her arm; she couldn't move her wrist. A sprain.

   Nott spun to face her again; his cheeks flushed and eyes glowing eerily. "I said," he whispered, "that I had ways of making you talk. After this we can take you to the Dark Lord—I dare say he'd have use for another Mudblood victim," he snickered. He turned away from her again. Hermione twisted, but didn't see Nott turn fast and hear the words pour out of his mouth:

"_Sonno Di Morte!_" 

That was the last thing Hermione Granger remembered, before she blacked out on the forest floor. 

***

_Howdy, y'all! _

Well here's chapter one. I have little to say, only that I thought of it mostly as I went along, which is REALLY BAD and I will _never, ever do again for as long as I live! _

"Sonno Di Morte" means "death sleep" in Italian, which I'm using because I haven't taken Latin yet. Forgive me. I'm in the middle of trying to find an Englishà Latin/ LatinàEnglish translator that doesn't cost any money online. _Why isn't anything ever simple?!_

Other than that comes the necessary babble about how I would **love, adore, and appreciate reviews**, I would like to say that I did **love, adore, and appreciate** the five reviews I got for the prologue. You guys made me warm and fuzzy inside:

*Acharnae *Andrea *hotaru420 *Loony bout Lupin _and *_Moonlit 

Peace, Love, and all that jazz: **Madame Plot Bunnie**

****

****


	3. Chapter Two: The Dungeons and The Study

PAWN 

A/N: I'm ba-ack! Notes and other stuff at the end…

***

   _"Go, Hermione!" _

_Footsteps on stone…a hard, cold bed…._

_   "Nott brought her in."_

_"Is that the wind?"_

_   Screams, wild laughter…._

_"Where are the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, Granger?!"_

_   Boots…darkness…snow…cold…_

_"What shall we do when she wakes, my Lord?" _

_   "…ways of making you talk…"_

_    "Don't look back, Hermione, go!"_

_***_

Hermione could feel herself drifting in the small fragment of space and time between dreams and consciousness. She heard Harry and Ron's voices, saw Nott chasing her through the Forbidden Forest, and the stinging cold. Her ears picked up unfamiliar voices, ones that she knew but could not place.

   From somewhere far off, a door slammed, and Hermione was yanked from that flitting moment of half-sleep for the time being. She was greeted with a sight that told her she definitely was not at Hogwarts. 

   Hermione was curled into a ball in the corner of a dank, dimly lit stone room. The ceiling was low, and there were no windows, sans a few near the ceiling, which were no more than three feet wide and three feet tall. The windows had not glass but an iron portcullis covering them, letting the harsh winter air pour in. Hermione could see her breath. The floor was like ice, with no coverings except small piles of straw in every corner. The walls and floors were covered in filth. Chains hung on the walls.

   _These sure aren't the dungeons at Hogwarts, _Hermione thought to herself. 

   Slowly, Hermione peeled herself off of the straw that served as her mattress. She hadn't a clue where she was. The last thing she remembered was Nott pointing his wand at her in the Forbidden Forest. She stood up, and nearly fell down again. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, and Hermione began to realize how badly her head ached.

   Steadying herself against the wall, Hermione straightened and took in a deep breath as she recalled what Nott had said to her in the Forest.

   _"I said," _he had whispered_, "that I had ways of making you talk. After this we can take you to the Dark Lord—I dare say he'd have use for another Mudblood victim." _Hermione remembered unfamiliar words coming out of his mouth and the man's cruel, yellowed eyes. She repressed a shiver as she realized what must have happened.

   She had been taken prisoner. 

Hermione sank down to the floor in slow motion. _Taken prisoner. _The words danced around in her head. Hermione tried to take deep breaths of the cold air to steady herself.  

   _What am I going to do? _Hermione asked mentally. Inwardly she scolded herself for being so incredibly stupid. Why had she taken Harry's advice? Why hadn't she stayed to fight or at _least _find Ron or Ginny? But Hermione disregarded that last idea as it crossed her mind—if either of her friends had been with her, they would have been captured too. 

   Back at Hogwarts, when Dumbledore was calling emergency meetings for the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione had heard horror stories of what happened to captured witches and wizards who opposed Voldemort. Quite like the last War, those captured were tortured for information and rarely seen again. But for Muggleborns, the situation was much more severe. Not to _mention _the fact that she was a woman.

   Hermione's hands trembled. She stuffed them inside her blue robe, which was tattered and torn from the battle. _I may never make it out of here alive, _Hermione thought miserably as tears crept into her eyes. _And I don't even know where 'here' is!_

   Just then, Hermione heard a low scraping noise, like fingernails on a chalkboard. She cringed as the noise reverberated across the stones. Footsteps and low voices could be heard nearing Hermione's cell.

   Hermione's eyes grew wide as she heard the sound of a key being inserted into her door. Reflexively, she reached into her wand pocket, only to find it empty. _Of course! Nott took it in the forest! _

The voices outside were loud now. 

   "This is Nott's girl," one said. "Order member and all, too, M'Lord."  The door swung open on creaky hinges. Hermione gasped. Four figures entered Hermione's cell. Two she knew immediately, by nothing else if not their platinum blonde hair. 

   Lucius Malfoy strode in with a sneer on his pointed face and long blonde hair tied neatly back. Draco Malfoy entered right behind him, in an uncanny likeness to his cruel Death Eater father. The next to enter was a stout little man that Hermione didn't know.

   Last to enter was a pale, red-cloaked figure. With no hair on his head and cruelly red eyes, Hermione knew that none other than Voldemort had just stepped into her jail cell.

   Voldemort locked eyes with Hermione. She stared up at him, unblinking, as the dark lord's fiery eyes burned holes in Hermione's brown ones. Hermione repressed a shiver. Voldemort broke the contact and let a cold chuckle escape his lipless mouth. Voldemort turned to Lucius Malfoy and the stout man. 

   "So," Voldemort hissed, "this is the great Hermione Granger we've all heard so much about." 

   Hermione's eyes widened in surprise; how did they know about her? Voldemort continued:

   "The smartest witch, perhaps smartest student, to pass through Hogwarts' walls in nearly a century," the Dark Lord whispered, gazing down at Hermione. "The girl who helped Harry Potter get through the trials of the Sorcerer's Stone, solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, and helped Sirius Black escape certain doom, and break into the Department of Mysteries," Voldemort finished with a hiss. "All before she graduated." Voldemort took a few steps closer to Hermione, who backed even further up against the wall. "Tell me, my dear, how is it that a Muggleborn could accomplish all these things?"

   Hermione felt fire run through her veins. "I don't know," she spat. "Why don't you tell me, being that your dad was a Muggle and all?"

   Behind Voldemort's back, Lucius Malfoy and the stout man exchanged uneasy glances. Draco Malfoy looked at Hermione in surprise. Voldemort's already tiny eyes narrowed even further. "I would not say such things if I were you, Mudblood," Voldemort hissed, pulling out his wand.

   Hermione didn't move. She tried not to let her mind be overrun by fear for the monster that stood before her. 

   Voldemort lowered his wand, a smirk creeping onto his pale face. He turned to his accomplices thoughtfully. "We will not destroy you quite yet, Miss Granger," Voldemort said. "We have other uses for you."

   Hermione repressed a shudder as Lucius Malfoy stepped forth, wand at the ready. His features were cold, as if carved into stone. "You will tell us," Lucius said, his voice even and calm, "where the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix are."

   Hermione trembled. "You already know," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "They're at Hogwarts." 

   Voldemort cackled. "Lying cannot save your friends now," he hissed. He removed something from the inner pockets of his robe and threw it at Hermione's feet. When she didn't move, he gestured to it with a slender, pale hand. "Go on, my dear," he whispered. 

   Not taking her eyes off the four men in the room, Hermione snatched what turned out to be a newspaper off the floor. Slowly, she unfolded it and began to scan the front page.

"HOGWARTS OVERRUN", the headline of the _Daily Prophet _screamed. Articles crammed the page: "Battle of Hogwarts", "Dumbledore and Most Order Members In Hiding", and "Minister of Magic Found Dead In France!"

   Hermione's hand flew to her gaping mouth in horror. She looked up at the troupe with terrified eyes. Voldemort laughed.

   "So you see, Miss Granger, your pathetic lies cannot help your friends anyway." He turned to Lucius and the stout man. "Lucius, Dr. Montague, extract as much information from this girl as possible," Voldemort ordered. "I will be in Lucius' study." With a mock-courteous bow to Hermione, Voldemort left the room, slamming the heavy door behind him. 

   Lucius, Draco, and the doctor all turned to Hermione. Hermione glared at the trio with as much loathing as she could muster. Draco avoided his old schoolmate's eyes as much as possible. His gray eyes remained fastened on the floor. Hermione barely recognized him at all in the five months since she had last seen her schoolgirl nemesis.  Draco Malfoy had obviously grown into his name—taller than his father, pale as snow, (_and probably as cold as it, too_, Hermione thought) and imposing. And very, very evil.

   Lucius drew his wand from the cane he carried. Hermione stared. 

"Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy said, in a drawl that made her toes curl. "You are going to reveal where the backup Headquarters are."

   Hermione's eyes narrowed as they locked on the Malfoy patronage. "And why would I do that?" she asked defiantly.

   The stout man, Doctor Montague, spoke up in a deep, rumbling voice. "My girl," he said, "the Dark Lord has nastier ways of making a victim talk than the Cruciatus Curse or a simple Truth Serum." 

   He said no more, but left his words to hang cryptically in the air. Hermione regarded him thoroughly—he was perhaps shorter than she, was balding at the crown of his head, and wore glasses that covered his little eyes. _He doesn't look like the sort to associate with the Dark side, _Hermione thought. _I wonder why he's here?_

Lucius sneered down at Hermione. "Stand up," he ordered. Behind Lucius, Dr. Montague nodded slightly. Hermione rose up on shaky legs but managed to support herself. She noted that Draco's gaze remained ardently glued to the floor.

   "Now, Granger," Lucius continued in a silky tone. "You will inform us of the whereabouts of your precious Order, and then we will see what the Dark Lord wants done with you." He raised his wand. "Tell us."

   Hermione shook her head, lips pressed firmly together. Her brown eyes showed fear, though, at the wand, and Lucius detected it. 

   "You will answer us!" he commanded. "_Crucio!_"

A wave of pain crashed down on Hermione, so suddenly it knocked the wind out of her. She thought she felt herself falling, but it was mixed with the feeling as thought every bone in her body was being broken. She opened her mouth as if to scream, but no sound could be forced past her lips. And then, just as suddenly as the pain had hit her, it stopped. Hermione sat up, coughing. Her whole body ached; she was in so much pain. Pain of such a level she didn't think humanly _possible. _

   Lucius smirked. Draco's gaze had left the floor sometime during Hermione's ordeal and he was now gazing at her with all the caring and intensity of a butter knife. 

   "Now do you understand why you will talk, Granger?" Draco asked. Dr. Montague looked on Hermione with pity as Lucius raised his wand again.

***

   Many hours later, while Hermione lie coughing up blood in the Malfoy's dungeons, the Malfoys themselves, along with Dr. Montague, stood before Voldemort in Lucius' study.

   "She is a stubborn one, my Lord," the Doctor wheezed in his deep voice. "She is being most difficult."

   Voldemort paused in front of the roaring fireplace, his red velvet robes swirling. "You say you performed the Cruciatus six times and she would still reveal nothing, Lucius?" he hissed.

   Lucius Malfoy nodded his regal head. "It is true, my Lord. She seems to have prepared herself for this kind of torture."

   The room fell silent. Draco stood perfectly still next to his father, dressed entirely in black. It unnerved him greatly that only two stories below them, a former schoolmate lie, and he was helping plan her torture.

   But let us note that, especially to a Malfoy, feeling unnerved and feeling remorse are two totally different things.

   Dr. Montague spoke up. "My Lord," he said. "I believe it would be unwise to continue torturing her in this manner. If we want to preserve her knowledge, we must not repeat the same mistake Bellatrix did with the Longbottoms!"

   Lucius pounded his fist on his cane. "We cannot go soft on our prisoners, Montague! Sooner or later, even the Granger girl will crack under pain!"

   Dr. Montague's face reddened. "If that is what you think, Malfoy, then—"

"Enough!" Voldemort said. The room fell silent with the exception of the flames crackling in the carved fireplace. His tall form cast a long shadow across Lucius' green marble floor. He turned to Draco, his red eyes calculating.  "And what does the young master Malfoy think? After all, the prisoner in question was until recently his schoolmate…"

   Draco stood. He could feel his father's cold gray stare on the back of his neck as he addressed the Dark Lord.

   "My Lord," Draco said, inclining his head. "I believe that my father and the doctor could both be right. Granger is strong mentally, but not as strong physically. Her mental defenses are sharp and fast, but mental torture is said to be the strongest." Lucius beamed at his son's diplomatic answer. 

   Voldemort's pale face remained emotionless but Draco could detect pride in his voice. "You have been taught well, young Malfoy," Voldemort said. "And have grown wiser since you entered my service last June."

   Draco suppressed a small grin. Voldemort turned to the doctor and Lucius. "Tomorrow we will try Veriteserum," he said thoughtfully. Dr. Montague looked relieved behind his thick glasses. "But we must also remember we have an arsenal of information that could persuade her. You are dismissed." 

   The three men left the room, with Voldemort trailing behind them.

***

   The Malfoy Manor dungeons were freezing by night.

Hermione lie in a heap on her bloodstained pile of hay, shivering. She couldn't tell how many hours she'd been lying there since her torturers had left. Had it been moments? Hours? A day? Even breathing hurt. Hermione was surprised her body even functioned properly after the amount of Cruciatus she had been put through. 

   _Dumbledore would've been proud, _Hermione thought weakly, suppressing a cough. _I didn't spill any secrets. _The taste of blood filled Hermione's mouth and she spat it onto the stone floor. Her once-curly chestnut locks hung damp with sweat and matted to her face and back. Her robes were ripped and bloody, and couldn't keep the cold out.

   Hermione caught a glance of the star-specked night sky in between the bars over the windows. Silently, Hermione wished that Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Order were all safely hidden somewhere far from the Malfoy Manor.

   Hermione's features became twisted with pain as she recalled the looks on her 'inquisitor's' faces. Lucius Malfoy looked pompous and regal as ever. Hermione had only seen his picture in the papers once since her graduation. Now that the Dark seemed to be winning, the head of the Malfoy family could not be found more pleased with himself.

   _But Draco Malfoy, _Hermione thought to herself. _A face I didn't exactly count on seeing. _Hermione had known, especially toward the end of seventh year, that Draco Malfoy was definitely destined for the Dark side. It was a fantastic rumor that nearly all of the graduating Slytherins in the class of 1997 were to be initiated into the Death Eater ranks on graduation day. But since all Voldemort activity had all but disappeared, most disregarded it as "bad Inter-House relations."

   But no, it wasn't so. The same pale, arrogant face that had taunted her and her friends through seven years of academia was now Hermione Granger's captor and co-tormentor. Hermione let out a deep sigh that became sidetracked with body-racking coughs. 

   _Even Malfoy father and son won't be enough to shake the information out of me, _Hermione thought resolutely, lying down and closing her weary eyes. _They'll have to think of something more devious than Truth potions or curses to rattle me. _

   Little did she know that was exactly what Voldemort himself was planning. 

***

**A/N**: Hey, guys! I'm back from the dead!

   I'm really sorry I haven't updated in nearly half a month, but my life has been really really out of whack as of late. Two weeks ago I had dress rehearsals for a show (I'm something of an actress) and I've been really quite ill. I actually spent a whole day off school writing this chapter from my sickbed.

   Okay, that was a **little** dramatic, but it was something like that. :-) 

I was kind of blown away by **all you reviewers out there**! I couldn't believe how much some of you liked this story. Thank you! You all make me VERY happy:

*_Alka_

*_Carolinastylus_

*****_dame didi_ (one word: thanks!!) 

*_Enzeru no Yami _

_*hotaru420_

_*Megan_

_*Porkchops and Applesauce _(cool name, by the way!)

*_Unicorn13 _(You're making me blush!)

*_Witchyprincess _

Thank you all so much, and I hope you'll review again! Also, **if you would like me to email you with updates,** leave your **e-mail address** in your review. 

May the Force be with you!     ~Mme. 


	4. Chapter Three: The Potions Master's Own ...

PAWN

****

**A/N: **_Some Thanksgiving goodness…from our family to yours. (This is better than pie!)_

***

   There is a saying that goes, "It is always darkest before dawn." This saying, when first looked at, really seems quite obvious. _Why, of course it's darkest right before dawn! It is night, after all! _This line of thinking is for the literal. But if you are the one who is thrown into a dank, damp, freezing dungeon and told, with a sickening sense of sadism to "have a good night", the pre-dawn hour seems the blackest you have ever known.

   By five A.M., (although she had no idea of knowing it was such,) Hermione had quite given up on the mere idea of staying warm. She was lying facedown in her straw pile, her knotted mass of hair fanned out and entangling with bits of straw. Hermione's brown eyes stared vaguely off into space, glassy and distant, as last night's Cruciatus still ran races through her tired body. Hermione's breath came in quiet little gasps, billowing out in shadowy white clouds when she exhaled. Her fingers and feet were numb. The clouds outside were just turning the faintest shade of gray, but for Hermione, it was truly her darkest hour.

   But instead of focusing on her pain, Hermione passed time by watching bits of moonlighted cloud float past her window, wondering if somewhere Ron or Harry or Ginny was looking at the same clouds, safely hidden away. Hermione briefly contemplated what her captors were doing, whether they were sleeping soundly mere stories about her pain-ridden body. 

   Hermione lay there, breathing and blinking and generally not feeling for a time, watching the sky turn to a darker shade of gray. It was depressing. 

   Hermione rasped a few coughs between her parched lips, thinking all the while how eerie it had been to host the Dark Lord in her cell. Hermione had never actually come face-to-face with Voldemort before, always being sent back by Harry or otherwise delayed somehow. 

   _He's not nearly as terrifying as he poses, really, _Hermione thought amusedly. _All that pasty whiteness makes him out to be a wrinkled old man. _

   The thought of Voldemort as a "wrinkled old man" sent some vivid imagery into Hermione's sleep-deprived mind and a small chuckle escaped her lips dryly. But the thought soon faded away as the chuckle cost Hermione nearly a minute of body-wracking coughs. She shook, trying to get herself under control, curling into a fetal ball. Hermione closed her eyes wearily. The gray hues turned to a heathery blue.

   Hermione dozed only momentarily, before her eyes sprang open from a soft tapping on the wooden door across the room. She froze. Could it be the Malfoys back again for another round of torture? Voldemort, with more bad news? Dr Montague? 

   "Who's there?" Hermione rasped warily, pulling herself up. A tiny voice could just barely be heard through the thick door.

   "Please…been sent by the masters…" a small voice said. Hermione frowned. Then, a small pop was heard, and a House Elf appeared right next to Hermione's "bed." Hermione jumped in shock.

   The House Elf was small, even for its kind's standards, with huge muddy brown eyes that bulged from its small pointed face. Its nose put Hermione in mind of Pinocchio—long and rather pointy. The Elf's head was covered in small tufts of hair poking out, falling in uneven lengths messily around its head. It stood, nary four feet tall, blinking at Hermione in wonder. Hermione stared at it in complete shock.

   "What…who _are _you?" Hermione asked nervously. The House Elf shook itself out of the stare, apologetically lowering its heavy brown gaze to the floor.

   "Oh, I _is _sorry, miss, I is!" the Elf cried. Hermione stared at it in wonder, her eyes wide. The tiny Elf continued. "I is Kipsy, miss, and the Masters have been sending Kipsy down here to look at you, miss!"

   Hermione could only blink wildly at the creature, thoughts of S.P.E.W. racing half-heartedly through her mind. _I might've known the Malfoys still enslaved their servants, _she thought bitterly. Kipsy turned her illuminated gaze back on Hermione.

   "The Masters have been sending Kipsy down for you, Miss," Kipsy said somewhat nervously, to Hermione's silence. "They is coming down to see you later, along with the Dark One!" Kipsy gave a nervous little shudder. Not quite being able of thinking of anything to say to that statement, Hermione remained silent. Kipsy shuffled nervously, clasping its little hands together. "Master Lucius and Master Draco have sent food for miss," Kipsy said, with some hope, looking at Hermione. Hermione fought to keep her gaze on the ground. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.  "Miss really should eat—"

   "I don't _want _whatever poison they've sent!" Hermione cried suddenly. Kipsy jumped. Hermione took a deep shuddering breath. "You can tell your 'Masters' that I'm not hungry," Hermione told Kipsy primly. She settled back against the wall, listening to the faint rumble of her stomach. 

   Kipsy wavered. "Miss should please eat," Kipsy said fearfully. "Miss looks right peaked if she doesn't mind Kipsy saying so." Hermione shrugged, feeling her fatigue. Kipsy carried on, warmly. "The Masters usually don't feed their prisoners, Miss," the Elf said. "But the Dark One gave special orders for you. He said it was important."

   "Oh yes?" Hermione asked, somewhat intrigued by this news. _Voldemort seems to be giving me special privileges_, she thought dryly. 

   Kipsy nodded eagerly, tufts of hair waving. "Oh yes, miss! Kipsy overheard it herself. Master Lucius was in a right state about the orders. Him feeding his prisoners, you especially, miss."

   Hermione allowed a cynical smile. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered. 

Kipsy allowed a comforting look. "Perhaps if miss will not eat, she would like a glass of water?" the Elf asked. With some reluctance to giving the Elf orders, Hermione nodded. Kipsy bounded out of the cell happily, returning seconds later with a wooden cup filled with ice water, and a small hunk of bread, which she gave to Hermione joyfully. "There miss is!" she cried, relieved her task was done. Hermione swallowed the bread hungrily, totally forgetting her earlier refusals, gulping down the stale stuff with swallows of the water. 

   "Kipsy," Hermione asked thoughtfully. "Exactly how long have I been here?"

Kipsy thought for a moment. "Three days, methinks, miss," the Elf said, ticking them off on her long, spindly fingers. "One the day the big school fell, and the next you was fast asleep. And yesterday," Kipsy finished lamely, brown eyes staring avidly at Hermione. Hermione sighed. 

   Just then, several loud bangs and shouts were heard from outside on the Malfoy Manor's grounds. Hermione's head whipped around, and she stood to peer out the miniscule window. "What's going on out there?" Hermione asked Kipsy. Kipsy looked frightened, her big eyes wide with uncertainty.

   "Kipsy doesn't know, miss," the Elf said in a small voice. "But Kipsy thinks she should leave. Kipsy is not liking the commotion and the Masters are waking!" and with a small pop, Kipsy the House Elf was gone again. 

   Hermione sighed, blinking tiredly as she plopped down in her makeshift bed. _Strange, this, _she thought, idly picking up her empty wooden cup and rubbing it between her hands, _the Malfoys run an interesting prison._ Hermione turned an ear to the outside world again, but the commotion had seemingly died down. From upstairs she thought she could hear the faint sound of footsteps, but passed it off as rats in the dungeon. 

   _But wait a moment…_

   Hermione held her breath, straining her ears. Yes! Those were footsteps she was hearing! _Clunk, clunk, clunk. _Many pairs of feet were descending into the dungeons. Quickly, Hermione seated herself messily in the hay, closing her eyes. And not a moment too soon: the door slammed open and fifteen Death Eaters clunked in, dragging a sixteenth. 

   "Stand up, you fool!" was spat, and Hermione could hear the dull thud of a boot connecting with someone's side. She struggled to keep her eyes closed. The Death Eater's wicked laughter rang throughout the cell as more kicks were applied to whoever the poor soul was, and then, a hush, and the sound of four more pairs of feet sweeping in. _Dignified feet_, Hermione realized, as the sound of fifteen Death Eaters dropping to their knees signified that Voldemort and the Malfoys had just entered the room.

   "My Lord," fifteen voices whispered. 

Hermione opened an eyelid a fraction of an inch. Red-robed Death Eater backs faced her, while a black-haired heap lie on the ground. Voldemort stood grinning wickedly down at it, with Lucius, Draco, and Dr. Montague on either of his sides looking delighted as well. 

   "So we are brought together again," Voldemort rattled in his low, snake-like hiss, Hermione's hope flickered for a moment…_black hair…'brought together again'…could that be Harry? _She squinted even harder but couldn't risk opening her eyes all the way. 

   "We found him out on the grounds, Milord!" One Death Eater spoke up proudly. "He was a-sneaking over toward the cellars, and we ran at 'im, and he tried to curse us, but we've got 'im now, and—"

   "_Silence, _Crabbe!" Voldemort rasped, and the Death Eater hastily fell silent. The only sound in the room was the gasping breath of the bundle on the floor. Voldemort's red eyes were alight as he watched the figure struggle for air. "Difficult, is that?" the Dark Lord asked in mock sympathy. "I know it only too well. I struggled with it for thirteen years before I returned. Thirteen years in which _you, _our slippery little eavesdropper, muddled somewhat happily through a normal life. But this is what life truly is: pain!" 

   The figure on the floor groaned faintly, stirring. Hermione peered through pieces of straw and began to pray that the figure wasn't Harry at all. _But how could it be? _She wondered frantically. _"Slippery little eavesdropper"? What does that mean? _

   "It was the only way," the figure croaked, trying desperately to be heard. Lucius pointed his wand at the figure, and he abruptly stopped talking. Voldemort cackled. 

   "You will find that there _is _only one way: my way, and the way of the pure," here Voldemort paused, "_Severus!" _Hermione stifled a gasp—her former Potions Professor was currently imprisoned with her. Voldemort turned to leave. "Deal with him and follow me shortly," the Dark Lord tossed over his bony shoulder. He exited swiftly, motioning for the Doctor and the Malfoys to follow. Montague and Lucius followed suit. Draco left, but not without glancing quickly over at the "sleeping" human bundle that was Hermione. After they were gone, the remaining Death Eaters turned on Severus Snape.

   "You'll be sorry you ever left," came a voice Hermione realized as being Theodore Nott's. 

   "Yeah," another followed. "Let's show him Slytherin retribution!"

A nod of assent, and then: "_Crucio!_" 

   Snape's cry echoed off the dungeon walls for what seemed like an eternity to Hermione's ears.

***

   "Professor? Sir?" 

Hermione gently prodded the unconscious man on the shoulder with her forefinger. Snape lie in the same spot he had been thrown in hours before completely submerged in his subconscious. Hermione sighed wearily, her knotted mass of hair falling in her eyes. "Professor, sir, can you hear me at all?" 

   Snape lie there like a dead fish. Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Snape," Hermione hissed. "Professor, wake up!" Hermione jabbed the man hard in the shoulder, and Snape jumped up with a start, his onyx eyes widening madly. 

   "Get back!" he cried, reached for his wand. Upon not finding it, Snape opted for lunging at Hermione's throat in a wild self-defense fury. Hermione ducked and rolled around him. Snape tried to stand but couldn't muster the strength, collapsing in a heap again.

   "Professor!" Hermione cried angrily, massaging her neck, standing over him. Snape looked up, wide-eyed. 

   "Miss Granger?"

   "Professor Snape?" 

   Snape looked at his hands, affronted. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I thought you were a recruit." 

   Hermione scowled as Snape pulled himself into a sitting position. She got a good look at his face and was taken aback. Her former teacher's skin was pale as ice and he had shadow-bags under his empty eyes. Snape looked tired and old. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, Professor," she blurted out, "But you look like shit." 

   Snape gave her a cynical once-over. "Perhaps you would do to keep your opinions to yourself, Miss Granger," he said. A pause, and then: "How long have you been here?"

   Hermione sighed. "Three days, according to the House-Elf that brought me breakfast."

Snape's eyes widened. "They _feed _you now?"

   Hermione chose not to explain whatever her current situation was at the moment. "Can you stand, Professor?" she asked. Snape shakily got to his feet. Hermione mentally applauded him for being so calm after his bout with the Cruciatus. Snape straightened, grimacing.

   Hermione hesitated before asking her next question. "Why…why are you here, Professor?" she asked. "I think you must've put up quite a fight outside, but I thought the Order was in hiding."

   Snape sighed, looking worn. "As a matter of fact, Miss Granger, I was supposed to be looking for you. Many died in the Battle," here he paused slightly, looking at his former pupil. "And thirteen were taken, two Order members, you included. Dumbledore thought it best that you were looked for." Snape stopped, glancing around the dungeon dismally. "As is plain, his plan has miserably backfired."

   Hermione shrugged. "But what are you going to do, sir? You most certainly can't stay here…Voldemort won't be exactly pleased to see you, and Dumbledore--" 

   Snape turned sharply. "What will I _do? _There is nothing to do, Miss Granger! Dumbledore cannot risk losing another Order member to this sort of foolishness!" Snape's face grew angry; he punctuated this sentence with a pound of his fist. Hermione jumped at the sudden change.  Snape quieted for a moment, turning from Hermione. "The Dark Lord will get what information he needs from us, and that will be the end." 

   Hermione stared at her fellow Order members back in disbelief. She had known of Snape's aversion to the Dark side, but for him to give up so easily was not something Hermione was willing to accept. "There must be another way out," Hermione muttered hopefully. Snape paced over to her, looking aggravated.

   "There is so much you have yet to learn about this business, Miss Granger," he said, in the tone he had reserved for the classroom. "There is nothing the Dark Lord will not use to get what he wants, and right now he would like nothing more than to rid himself of your friend Mr. Potter for good. It is to our great misfortune that we can help him do that." Snape drew himself up, standing tall, seemingly in deep inner turmoil as he rubbed the spot where his Dark Mark was. Finally, he looked straight at Hermione and said, "and for life's sake, it is the only way to go."

   Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. "What?" she cried. Bottled fury spread through her. "You would submit yourself back to Voldemort? You would be willing to sacrifice all that is good and just and peaceful so you could live?!" Hermione cried, aghast. 

   Snape's face looked drawn, but his voice was calm. "You will find, Miss Granger, that there are very few things in this world that are truly good and just and peaceful," he said, his eyes looking sternly at her. 

   Hermione suppressed a scream of rage. "Professor! You suffered for eighteen years under the cover of a spy only to betray Dumbledore and go back?" 

   "What I do with my life is my own business," Snape spat. His torn Order robes seemed to swish with some of his former menace. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "There are things I plan to do with it, and I will not give them up for the ideals of a losing army!" he said, somewhat furiously. "There can be no peace without dominance!" 

   Hermione could do nothing but stare. What had happened to the Order spy that had existed in her former professor? 

   "I don't understand this line of reasoning," Hermione said bitterly. "You cannot just go _sell _Order secrets for the sake of your life, Professor Snape."

   Snape's dark eyes narrowed. "This is not for me," he said quietly. "This is for you, and this is for the peace that Dumbledore has always wanted. They are winning already, Hermione Granger, and the defiance of two captives is not going to stop that."

***

   Many hours later, the pair of prisoners had been dragged from their cell to Lucius Malfoy's audience chamber. 

   Forced into a kneeling position before Lord Voldemort, Hermione and Snape sat with their wrists bound, the former with an angry and hopeless expression on her face. Snape had been silent since he left the cell, but frequently glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, watching for any possible Death Eater mistreatment.

   Voldemort waved a spindly hand, and the congregation of Death Eaters fell silent in eager anticipation. Red eyes fell upon the two captives as Voldemort began to speak. "So, our entertainment for the evening has arrived," he said cruelly, stepping toward the pair. Hermione glared fiercely at the term "entertainment". Voldemort stopped in front of Snape. "One, a truly Slytherin turncoat," Snape didn't flinch. Voldemort sneered at him and moved to stand directly in front of Hermione. Hermione shuddered at the coldness of the snake-like eyes. "And one, a witch with more Muggle than actual magic in her."

   Hermione forced herself not to blink. _Be strong, Hermione, be strong, _she told herself. _Make the Order proud for the last few minutes of fragile secrecy! _Voldemort chuckled and moved on, facing his Death Eaters.

   "One of these captives has decided it is the time to reveal their true colors!" Voldemort told them. The congregation cheered. Hermione turned her head to face Snape, who was staring at the ground desperately. He turned his gaze to her, silently saying, _"It's all for the best." _Hermione shook her head slightly and turned her gaze away. "Both can help our cause," Voldemort continued. The Dark Lord stood behind Hermione and Severus, placing a cold hand on their shoulders. "Soon the Purebloods shall triumph!

"One will willingly give the secrets of a former alliance to save a few," Voldemort cackled to the crowd. "And one will forcefully become a little bribe for those who will be destroyed. Dr. Montague! Step forth. Administer the Truth Serum."

   The stout doctor stepped forward, pulling out a small crystal bottle of the clear Veriteserum from his robe pocket. Adjusting his glasses, the doctor forced Snape's mouth open, and poured the liquid down Snape's throat. Snape's eyes became immediately glassy, and Hermione looked on horrified.

   "Watch, friends, as the Potions Master gets a dose of his own medicine!" Voldemort hissed. Lucius Malfoy stepped forth, looking proud as ever.

   "Severus Snape, you will forthwith answer all questions directed to you," Lucius said silkily. "Where are the emergency Order of the Phoenix Headquarters?"

   Hermione watched, eyes wide, as Snape hesitated for a second, before answering in a trance-like state. "The emergency headquarters are in…" Snape threw a desperate look at Hermione, who shook her head violently. _Let him fight it! _

   "NO!" Hermione screamed, as Snape formed the word. "Stop it! Don't give in, Prof—" But Hermione's protests were cut off as Draco Malfoy placed a Silencing Spell on her from behind. He stepped up next to her, glaring with icy orbs. Hermione was startled into submission.

   "Siberia." The word fell off Snape's tongue with condemning solemnity. His eyes were downcast, and Voldemort gave a wicked gleam. Malfoy father and son shared a triumphant look. Hermione's mouth hung in a silent, defeated _O. _

   "And is Albus Dumbledore with them?" Lucius Malfoy continued, a sort of maniacal light filling his eyes. Snape nodded, eyes still glued to the black marble floor. Hermione's head began to spin with the injustice of the situation.  Angry tears began to make themselves known in her eyes and they blurred her vision as she pictured Ron, Ginny, and Harry. 

   As if he could read minds, Lucius next asked, "And Harry Potter?" 

Snape hesitated a moment, looked around the room and locked gazes with Hermione again. He looked helpless. Almost unwillingly, he nodded. The tears burned streaks down Hermione's face. She knew now that there was no hope for the Order. 

   Lucius looked at his Master, who nodded. Lucius continued the questioning. "What were your reasons for sneaking onto the Manor grounds this morning, Snape?" 

   Snape answered readily. "I am sent on a mission by Dumbledore to rescue your captive, Hermione Granger." Lucius gave a nasty chuckle, and Draco looked down on his former schoolmate with a sneer. Hermione glared at him through her burning eyes. 

   "And will anyone come to rescue you?" Lucius asked in mock sympathy.

Snape's eyes were downcast once more. "There are not enough Order members able to conduct another such mission," the Potions Master said quietly. "Miss Granger's fate rested with me."

   Voldemort gave a little cackle. "You have disappointed her, Severus Snape," he said cruelly, casting a gaze on Hermione, who moved not a muscle. Voldemort regarded her closely. "You have disappointed her indeed," he murmured. The Dark Lord turned his gaze away from Hermione and back to Lucius. "I will take over now," he told his right-hand-man. Lucius bowed and stepped back next to his son. 

   "And lastly, Severus Snape, we come to the Judgment Day. Who are your true allies?" Voldemort asked, a wicked smirk covering the snake-like face. Snape's head snapped up at the unprepared-for question. 

   "My…alliances…" Snape seemed to be fighting the words, "lie with the…the winning side." The black hair formed a curtain over the broken face as Snape's head fell limply in defeat. Silent tears raced down Hermione's face at the sight of her broken former Order member. Voldemort pulled back in delight.

   "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Voldemort asked maliciously. Turning to his Death Eaters, he raised his arms in triumph. "Severus Snape has returned to my ranks!" Voldemort said. "But can an ex-traitor be trusted?" A hiss went through the crowd. Hermione closed her eyes, trying desperately to block the scene from her mind. Voldemort turned to Snape thoughtfully. "No…" he muttered. "I think you shall have to earn your way back in. Crabbe! Goyle!" Both sets of father and son, four lumbering fellows, stepped forth. "Take our recruit Severus to the dungeons and…" Voldemort's red eyes glowed. "_Test_ _his devotion." _

   Snape's eyes grew wide as Crabbe and Goyle Sr. laughed dumbly as their sons grabbed his arms. Hermione tried to cry out in horror but for the Silencing Spell, only air came out. Snape locked eyes with her as they dragged him out of the room, with an empty gaze that would haunt Hermione's memory for years to come. The heavy doors slammed shut, and Snape was gone.

   Hermione was alone in the audience chamber with Voldemort and his minions. 

***

   **A/N:** Ah! A nail-biter! 

Well at least now I know I'll have you coming back. Cliffhangers make for nice **reviews**!

**Also:** Happy Thanksgiving!! (to all those who celebrate it). I hope yours went off well without disaster. (Although what would any holiday be without some sort of amusing horror story?!) 

And as always… 

**Thank you to my reviewers! You guys are absolutely the best:**

_alka_

_dangelu881_

_Desiqueen_

_Dreaming One—_true, this thing is all over the place. And the butter knife? Meant he was looking at her dully. Don't ask me, it was a stupid late-night writing binge thing.

_hotaru420_

_Megan—_I AM proud! Thank you!

_MsLessa—_bloody little Muses **did **harass me. But I appreciated it.

_ Padfootsknightingale_—I can't either, because as of right now I don't **know** (!!!)

_Rae_

_Thalion1_

_Unicorn 13_—I love long reviews. And to answer your question: **I am but a lowly freshman.** L 

_WitchyPrincess—_I'm so happy that you think that because I **HATE** those clichés. Ick. 

**Keep reviewing; I love it!**

            Much love—

Mme. 


	5. Chapter Four: A Prize to be Won

PAWN

****

**A/N**:_ The Cliffhanger Strikes Back! Dun dun dun…_

***

   As the heavy oak doors to the audience chamber slammed shut, an eerie hush fell over the daunting crowd of Death Eaters as Hermione knelt before Voldemort. 

   Truthfully, Hermione had never been more scared in her life. She sat silently (due only to the spell cast by Draco,) on the cold hard floor, not daring to take her eyes off of her adversary. Hermione didn't even care about trying to hide her fear now—she knew Voldemort could sense it practically seeping out of her pores.

   Voldemort continued his study of her. After a moment, he finally spoke. "Rise, Miss Granger," Voldemort said in his low and snake-like voice. Owing to the bounds on her wrists, Draco grabbed Hermione by the forearms and dragged her upwards into a standing position. Hermione shivered in Draco's icy grip, wrenching herself free. 

   "I believe," Voldemort continued, looking at Draco meaningfully, "that we can free Miss Granger of her bounds?" Draco gave a curt nod of his blonde head and turned to Hermione. He untied the ropes from her wrists. Hermione rubbed them, surprised to see angry red welts forming from the abrasive bonds. Draco then whipped out his wand. Hermione flinched and he smirked, placing the tip of the wand to her throat. 

   "Parli," Draco whispered. Hermione's eyes went wide as she felt a warm, glowing sensation in her throat, and suddenly rasping breaths pushed out through her mouth. She had her voice back.

   Voldemort seated himself on his makeshift throne, obviously amused. "And now, down to business. Come closer, Miss Granger."

   Timidly, Hermione took a few small steps closer to the abhorrent creature. 

Voldemort looked pleased with her obedience, but what else was she to do? Continuing, Voldemort said, "And now, Miss Granger, we will discuss your living arrangements for the extent of your imprisonment." 

   A terrible hush fell over the room and the Death Eater heads snapped to attention. Hermione shook her head. _What did he just say? _She wondered. _Perhaps the Death Eaters are planning some kind of torture? _Hermione steeled her nerves and spoke. "Shouldn't you just throw me back into the dungeons with the rest of my mates?" She asked, a bitter edge to her voice. 

Voldemort let out a bemused cackle. "No, no, Miss Granger," said he. "That would be far too…_predictable."_

   At this, Hermione fought back the urge to let out a harsh chuckle of her own. "Forgive me," Hermione said, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "But you've already tortured me, tried to kill my friends, and bound and gagged me on the way up here. You really can't get much more predictable than that!" 

   From the side, Draco Malfoy gave her a sharp look and elbowed her in the ribs to shut her up. Hermione gave her former schoolmate a dirty look. Childish, yes—and in the face of extreme danger on the Voldemort front—but Hermione was through with being meek and quiet at the moment. With the Order's secrets already spilled by the thrice double-crossing Snape, now was not a time for timid actions.

   Voldemort appeared to be considering his captive's outburst. Finally, he let out an obviously amused laugh. "You make a good point, Miss Granger," the snake like creature said thoughtfully. "Which is precisely why we must decide your living arrangements."

   Hermione was confused. She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't follow." 

Voldemort looked impassive. "Few ever do, my dear girl," he said. Voldemort turned to Lucius, who was waiting in the front of the crowd in anticipation for his Lord's commands. "Lucius!" said Voldemort sharply. "Disperse with these crowds, and call a chair for Miss Granger here."

   Hermione saw a blank look of confusion creep into the elder Malfoy's eyes, but he turned and began to command the Death Eater assembly outside of his hall. The crowd left silently, pulling their hoods over their faces as they left. Draco began to file out among them. Just as he reached for his hood to cover his fair head, Voldemort spoke out to him.

   "Young Malfoy, you will stay. This matter will perhaps be of your concern." Draco turned, and, locking eyes with Hermione, nodded. Seconds later Lucius returned with Kipsy the House Elf, who was bearing three chairs. Hermione tried to catch the eye of the tiny Elf, but Kipsy's gaze was locked on the floor. The Elf set the chairs up to face Voldemort's, performed a small bow to the Dark Lord, and disappeared with a snap of her fingers.

   _Alone with the enemy again, _Hermione thought with dismay. Voldemort rose from his seat and motioned for his three guests to sit. Hermione, after looking around awkwardly

and receiving a sharp glare from Lucius and a thoroughly bemused one from Draco, found no better option than to seat herself. The chair was enormous, and hugely gaudy, with gilded paint and a burgundy red velvet cushion. The ornate carving made it look like a ruined medieval artifact. Hermione found it a truly Malfoy-esque piece indeed. 

   Voldemort stared down at Hermione once again. "Your parents were Muggles," Voldemort said. It was more of a statement than anything else, but Hermione nodded nonetheless. From her left, Lucius gave a sneer of disgust, which Voldemort ignored.

   "They were killed, were they not?" Voldemort continued, his hands clasped in front of him calmly. Hermione inhaled deeply at the reminder of the painful memories.

   "You should know," Hermione spat acerbically. "After all, wasn't it _your _Death Eaters who did the deed?" Her hands clasped the arm of her chair violently.

Voldemort sighed through his lipless mouth. "Yes. A great misfortune, but unavoidable, you see," he said, not at all cruelly. "There is no fairness in war, Miss Granger." Voldemort paced back to his chair. "But let us discuss less painful matters. The subject of your quartering, for example."

   Hermione frowned, seeing Draco and his father exchange wary glances. "What exactly I am I being kept for?" 

Voldemort stood in front of Hermione. "Miss Granger, you were—are—the smartest witch to graduate from Hogwarts School in nearly a century. There were rumors," here he paused, scanning the girl in front of him. "Rumors that you had inherited that intellect from Rowena Ravenclaw herself. But of course that cannot be true. We had your parents to consider.

   "Your N.E.W.T. results surpassed even my own, I will admit," Voldemort continued. Hermione could not verify whether the tint of pride she thought she had heard in this creature's voice was true. "And it came as a realization to me that if we had one such as yourself on our side," Voldemort showed a lipless smile. "I would be indestructible."

   Hermione snorted in disbelief. "You _actually think _I would sink so low as to serve you?" she hissed in anger, glowering. "I will never work for your scum." Hermione glared at Lucius and Draco. 

   Lucius Malfoy turned to her, equally irate. "Be quiet, filth!" Lucius said in a deadly tone, raising his hand to strike her. Hermione flinched.

   "Lucius! Calm yourself!" Voldemort said sharply. The elder Malfoy, still glowering, slowly lowered his arm and turned stiffly in his chair. "Is this how you treat a future guest in the Malfoy Mansion?" Voldemort asked benignly, gesturing to Hermione. 

"What?!" Lucius and Draco cried, bolting from their chairs in sync. 

"What?" yipped Hermione in shock. 

   Voldemort stood, a benevolently calm smile curling over his pale face. "I said, Lucius," Voldemort spoke slowly to his right-hand man. "That Miss Granger will be instated here at your Manor as your guest on my behalf from now on."

   Hermione blanched. Draco looked at her in shock. Lucius sank back into his chair weakly.

   "My…my Lord," Lucius mumbled brokenly. "I do not understand!"

Voldemort did not look particularly surprised by this statement. "Lucius, my servant, need I explain it again?" Voldemort said in a dangerously low tone. Lucius shook his head, long blonde hair never moving. 

   "No, My Lord!" Lucius said quickly. 'That is not what I meant at all. I merely meant I do not know of your plan. Surely," he cast a dark look at Hermione; "you have a reason for wishing me to house this…Mudblood in my home?"

   Voldemort clucked his tongue. "No need for such harsh words, Lucius," Voldemort said brusquely. "My plan is but simple: you keep Miss Granger here, to your complete advantage of course, while she and Severus work on a new artillery of potions for my stock." He grinned down at a wide-eyed Hermione. 

   Lucius merely blinked. "But why in the house?" Lucius asked, sounding very much like a five-year-old child. "Can't we just throw her in the dungeons?"

   Voldemort sighed disappointedly, eyeing Lucius with some disgust. "If Miss Granger's friends were to attack and come looking for her, where is the very first place they would look, Lucius?" he asked.

   Lucius sighed. "The…dungeons," he admitted with defeat, glaring at Hermione, who glared back. 

   "Besides," said Voldemort, "that is not the extent of my plan." 

Hermione's rage broke again. "Oh yeah?" she said. "What's next? I've heard what you do to your prisoners! Will you put the Imperius on me? Lease me out as a slave? Throw me in one of your harems?" 

   Voldemort calmly waited for the end of this little outburst. "Not quite, Miss Granger," Voldemort said, "but close." Hermione grimaced. She had heard tales of what had happened to female captives—and none of them had been remotely pleasant. Voldemort rose again. "You see, Miss Granger, I have a reward system for my followers."

   Hermione quirked an eyebrow in feigned interest. "Oh?"

Voldemort chose to ignore her lack of enthusiasm. "It really is quite simple: if one does well in my ranks, they are rewarded. If one does poorly," he chuckled. "Well, let us just say the consequences are severe." 

   From her side, Hermione could see Lucius and Draco share a look that told her that the punishments were indeed not something you'd appreciate.

   "Fortunately," Voldemort said, the grin crossing back onto his face, "The Malfoys here have done extraordinarily well as of late. Or shall I say, young Draco in particular." Here the master beamed at his young follower. Draco visibly swelled with pride. "And," Voldemort continued, "he shall be rewarded for his actions in the act of the capture of the school of Beauxbatons."

   The cold feel of dread crept back into Hermione's abdomen. "And…just how…will he be rewarded?" Hermione stammered, already grasping the cold answer. 

   Voldemort looked up, surprised by her lack of understanding. "Why my dear girl," said he. "With you, of course." 

   Hermione's brown eyes inflated with horror. They met those of the equally shocked Draco Malfoy. 

   Until she blinked.

***

   When Hermione came to many hours later, she was greeted with the sight of the ever-energetic Kipsy nervously dancing around her with a cool washcloth. 

   Hermione shrieked in surprise and bolted up from her lying position. The Elf jumped and cried out as Hermione leapt off of what she realized to be a small cot back in her old resting place—the dungeons. 

   _Ah, upgrades at last, I see, _Hermione thought dryly as she noted the cot. Fortunately, her captors seemed to be nowhere in sight. Her only company was the elf, which, Hermione realized, was staring at her avidly from the corner. 

   "Sorry, Kipsy," Hermione said, catching her breath. "I just…didn't remember where I was."

   "It's alright, Miss!" the Elf said energetically, relieved to see Hermione's fit was only temporary. "Kipsy was afraid that Miss had forgotten herself, but Miss is fine now." Kipsy paused, regarding her charge. "How is Miss feeling?"

   Hermione realized she had a headache, as well as several craps from her odd sleeping position on the cot. "Miss is feeling…tired, Kipsy," Hermione replied in a tone to match her mood. She sank down to the cot again, massaging her temples. "Why am I down here?" Hermione asked, to no one in particular. "The last thing I remember is Voldemort saying—"

   Kipsy shuddered at the Dark Lord's name. Hermione froze. "…saying that I was Malfoy's _reward!_" Hermione moaned in disgust. Her headache grew and Hermione threw her head down on the cot miserably. 

   How had she gotten herself into this mess? Why had she ever taken Harry's advice and left the castle grounds alone? Why?

   "Why what, Miss?" Kipsy probed. Hermione jumped, not realizing her thoughts had been spoken. 

   "Nothing, Kipsy," Hermione replied, sighing. The Elf looked up at her with its huge brown eyes full of pity. Kipsy took Hermione's hand and patted it in what Hermione supposed was reassurance. "At least Miss will be free of the dungeons," Kipsy said.  

   Hermione was about to say something to the effect of describing her hatred of Malfoy when the door to her cell was thrown open in a violent and angry manner. Light poured in and filed around the silhouette of one Draco Malfoy. 

   "Enjoying the accommodations, Granger?" Malfoy sneered, stepping in to Hermione's abode. 

   Deciding that since she was in no danger of dying, two could play the snubbing game. "They're fine, thanks," Hermione replied airily, gesturing to the cot. From somewhere beside her, Kipsy shook her head in a bemused way before disappearing into thin air. "Of course," Hermione added, almost as an afterthought, "it _was _much nicer without the scum infestation that just made itself known."

   Draco gave his old schoolmate an icy blue glare. "Now Granger, that's no way for a prize to talk to its owner," he smirked, absolutely radiating with smug satisfaction in his new ownership.

   Hermione stood, fury etched into her features. "Listen, ferret," she spat. "You will _never _own me!" 

   Draco took a step forward, so he was directly in front of Hermione. Hermione realized with dismay that he had the height advantage, so if she wanted to glare at him from this standpoint she had to actually raise her head to look at the filth. "Listen up Granger," Draco said, his voice dangerous. "Potter and Weasley aren't here to save your skin now…you're at my mercy."

   Hermione gave a smirk of her own. "Empty threats, Malfoy," she said, remembering Voldemort's words about her intellect and using her for his potions stock. "Voldemort won't allow you to maim me in any way, and you're quite well aware of that. You can't kill me because I have a job to do. And raping me is far out of the question because you wouldn't dare sully yourself with Mudblood flesh," Hermione spat in fury. Silence enveloped the room. Draco looked totally abashed and at a loss for words. Hermione silently awarded herself a small bow for finally achieving this goal. 

   "We'll just see about that, Granger," Draco said slyly, pulling on a smirk to cover up his speechlessness. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. "You think you know everything, you always have—but you're wrong Granger, oh so very wrong," Draco said. Hermione started to squirm under the intense blue gaze. "Just count yourself lucky you're in Voldemort's favor." He wrenched her face out of his hands. Hermione could feel a bruise forming on her jaw.

   Draco turned to the door with a swish of his cloak that Snape would have admired in their Hogwarts days. "I'll be back for you later, pet," Draco said over his shoulder. Hermione grimaced at the title he had "graced" her with. When he was at the door, Draco turned with a grin that lit up his entire pale face in a malicious delight.

   "This game has only just begun, Granger…a game where you're nothing but a worthless pawn," Draco said abrasively, smirking. "A game in which you cannot win."

   Hermione held him with a glare. "We'll see," she said. "We'll see whose king will fall."

***

   Three levels above in the study, Lucius was pacing nervously in front of his Lord. "I hope this plan works, my Lord," Lucius said, thinking of his son and the Mudblood and his Master's obscene plan.

   "When have they not, Lucius?" Voldemort asked benignly, pouring himself a glass of Amontillado from Lucius's wine cellar. Noting the worrisome look on his follower's face, Voldemort sighed. "Lucius, my friend…this plan is _fool-proof._" He gave a harsh laugh and toasted his own brilliance before the red liquor was thrown down his throat. 

***

**A/N:** YAY! FINISHED!

   I hadn't updated in so long, and I'm really really REALLY sorry! (Darn that whole Real Life problem for getting in the way!) It's a long story, and you **don't** want to hear the details. I can say that since the hols are starting this week for my vicinity of the planet, I'll be updating more. No school= v. happy Madame. 

Er…I suppose this chapter had its funny bits. I hope no one thought this was all drama, because it isn't. **And we're finally moving in to D/H range! **For all you mad shippers out there, this should sate you for a while. 

And in other news…well. My reviewers **so officially Rock**, if you didn't already know. I love you guys so much. Whether it's criticism or praise, it's a major self-esteem boost. Woooooo for you guys:

*Ms Lessa (sneaky bastard indeed! We TOLD you he was tricksy…)

*dangelu881

*Harry's Girl

*Islandmochagurl

*FantasyKiki (thanks! I'm glad you like it!)

*Proud Mary (well…you'll see about all of them if you just keep reading!)

*Tristanlover59

*offleewild1

*hotaru420 (I'd bow, but with my luck I'd trip)

*Unicorn13 (my b-day is even later. I'm a September!)

*Jenberg

*alka

*serena

*Wander Aimlessly (the suspense is good for my review count! Heh)

*Megan

And of course **Britta, **who help me fend off Liz's Mock-Attack Friday. (Of course, the three of us really shouldn't talk. We are **neo-maxi-zoom-dweebies.**) 

(Sorry. I'm not alphabetizing my thank-yous anymore. That takes time I simply haven't got.)

   Be safe and happy—

 MME


	6. Chapter Five: Siberia and the Suite

PAWN

__

**Please stay tuned after our feature presentation. **

***

    Harry Potter had known upon arrival in Siberia that his stay wasn't going to be a particularly pleasant one, nor was he going to enjoy a glamorous life-in-hiding. He had not, however, counted on the constant bone-chilling cold, the icy blasts of Arctic wind that found its way into even the most remote caves, and the snow that got everywhere. 

   Harry's teeth chattered as he shifted in his sleeping bag. All around the cave floor, various members of the Order of the Phoenix in their respective sleeping bags surrounded him. The only thing that could be heard was the wind whipping past the entrance to the cave deep in the ground of the Russian wasteland. Harry checked his watch, only to see that it had stopped working from the cold. He sighed. Everything in life seemed to be frozen.

   Harry could remember Dumbledore's face after Harry had burst into his office after the battle. Voldemort had, once again, escaped in the mass confusion and left the smoldering ruin of Hogwarts behind him. Dumbledore urgently rounded up the survivors and the motley crew had performed a mass Apparation to the backup headquarters of Siberia. From there, Dumbledore performed multiple head-counts; the toll of the battle had hit them hard. But Harry hadn't needed anyone to tell him the news; he could see it with his own eyes.

    Those that had been identified as dead had been Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Professors Flitwick and Sprout, Dean Thomas, and Dennis Creevey, among many others. But it was those among the missing that had Harry worried: Charlie Weasley, Hagrid, Lavender Brown, and most of all, Hermione. 

   Harry sighed miserably, hearing the wind whistle violently and realizing he wasn't going to fall back asleep. Tentatively, he crept out of his sleeping bag, and, fully dressed, padded softly across the cave floor to the fire. To Harry's groggy surprise, Ron was already awake and staring blankly into the flames. 

    Pushing his glasses up over his green eyes, Harry slowly sat down on the floor next to Ron. Due to the redhead's unblinking stare, Harry got the sneaking suspicion Ron hadn't noticed him. Harry resigned himself to toasting his hands and trying not to think about his guilt for sending Hermione away.

   Harry blamed himself for loosing his best friend; in his mind, he sent her to her doom by sending her off into the woods by herself. But Ron seemed to be taking it the hardest. He had barely spoken two words to anyone but Dumbledore since hearing the news. Harry had always suspected Ron had harbored more than friendly feelings for their bushy-haired best friend, but Ron's grief only confirmed his suspicions. 

   "Where d'you think she is right now?"

   Harry snapped his head around. Ron was sitting with his large hands splayed miserably across his face, his red hair falling messily about his eyes, still staring avidly into the fire. Harry sighed.

   "I don't know, Ron. I just hope she's okay," Harry said. Ron removed his hands. Harry saw that his eyes were red around the rims. Ron sighed and looked up. Harry frowned. "Ron, have you gotten any sleep at all in the last four days?"

   Ron didn't say anything. Harry took his silence as a negative. For a while the two friends sat in silence, Ron thinking about Hermione and Charlie, and Harry trying not to think about anything, except the snores of the sleeping Order members.

   It was so comfortable sitting next to the fire… 

   "Harry…Harry, dear, you must wake up."

Harry's eyes snapped open. He had fallen asleep again next to the fire. Mrs. Weasley stood over him, looking tired but still offering a small smile despite the loss of one of her sons.

   Harry sat up, even groggier than before. "'Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with a yawn. He noted that Ron was gone. "Where's Ron?"

   Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "He's gone off again, poor dear. I think Luna finally slipped a Dreamless Sleep potion into his food at breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said. Harry detected a certain sadness in her voice, but it was gone as soon as she started talking again. "And I believe that Dumbledore would like to speak to you Harry, as soon as you've had a spot of breakfast."

   Harry immediately perked up at the mention of Dumbledore. Perhaps the man had news for him? Harry stood, saying, "I'm not really hungry, Mrs. Weasley, so I guess I'll go find Dumbledore now."

   Mrs. Weasley's hand flew up into the air, causing Harry to jump in surprise. "Harry Potter," she said in her most authorial tone. "If we can finally get Ron to go to sleep, then I most certainly am not going to let you getaway without eating. Dumbledore can wait."

   In a dream-like state, Harry found himself nibbling on a piece of toast, wondering just how Mrs. Weasley managed to deal with him as well as a missing son. He was sitting on a chair at a makeshift table made of a plank of wood between two barrels when Ginny Weasley came over, looking tired but, in Harry's mind, quite lovely. Her hair was tied back and she was wearing a wrinkled set of Order robes, and looked like she'd only just awoken.

   "Hey Gin," Harry said around his toast, patting a spare barrel next to him. Ginny took the seat with a yawn, grabbing a piece of toast.

"Hullo, Harry," Ginny said, eying the toast with a certain distaste. "I see mum's already gotten to you this morning."

   Harry shrugged nonchalantly, and for a while they both went on eating their toast in silence, watching the other Order members bustling about. Harry kept an eye out for Dumbledore or anyone who could possibly have news from the outside world. Lupin passed by, looking as gray and tired as when Harry had first met him. Lupin waved to Harry and Ginny as he passed down the cave tunnel into the Order of the Phoenix's planning room. Harry was just about to bid Ginny goodbye when Luna Lovegood wandered over.

   "Hello, Harry," Luna said slowly, as if she had just spotted him. Her protuberant eyes offered a slightly dazed look, as though she couldn't quite grasp or remember what she was doing in a cave. Luna looked at Ginny and nodded. Ginny yawned back.

   "Hi, Luna," Harry said carefully, offering the girl a seat. Luna remained standing. 

"I went to the opening of the cave this morning," Luna said, twirling her wand between her fingers and seemingly very interested in her work. Harry and Ginny shared a glance that said _'here she goes again!' _"And it was still snowing rather hard." Luna paused again, looking up at Harry and Ginny.

   Harry slowly shook his head. "That's just fantastic, Luna," he said guardedly. Ginny gave him a quizzical look. "But I've really got to see Dumbledore, so if you'll excuse me…" Harry got up to leave. Luna suddenly spoke very fast.

   "I saw an owl."

Harry nodded as he walked away. "We'll talk later, Luna, okay?"

   "It had a letter," Luna continued, pulling an envelope out of her robe pocket. "It's from the Malfoys."

***

   Hermione sat on her cot in the dungeons, glaring at the bowl of soup that had been placed in front of her by Kipsy the Elf that morning. Kipsy had timidly explained that "Master Draco" was coming down to get her later that morning, and to please be ready for him when he came.

   Hermione scowled into the soup in distaste. Her robes were practically non-existent at this point, due to her less-than-friendly treatment as of late. She had cuts and scratches of various shape and sizes, and she didn't even want to imagine what her hair looked like. 

   And then there was the minor detail of Hermione's stubbornness: even if she had looked halfway decent, she would never be ready for any Malfoy on her own time. So instead she sat fuming, just wondering when her jailors were going to make their appearances.

   She didn't have to wait long.

The door of her cell swung open once more to reveal Draco, standing in the doorway looking as smug as ever.

   "Hello, pet," Draco said, his gray eyes sweeping her maliciously. Hermione leapt off the cot, seething at the nickname. Draco jumped back in fright at the sight of the angry, wild-looking Hermione. He pulled out his wand from his black cloak.

   "Now, now, pet, no need for rash actions. I am, after all, taking you in to my gracious care," Draco said, enjoying the sight of Hermione freezing at the sight of his wand. 

   Hermione inhaled deeply. "Firstly, _Malfoy, _let's get something straight: the only reason I'm being 'taken in' is because of that pathetic scum you play lap dog for," Hermione said venomously, crossing her arms over her chest. "And secondly, don't call me _pet._" She stood at her full height, hoping to gain some kind of authority in her volatile position. 

   Draco grinned. "Alright then, Hermione."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Granger," she demanded.

   Draco grinned even wider, twirling his wand in his hand. "Herm?"

   Hermione was livid, not understanding how anyone could be so infuriating. "Granger, Malfoy!" Hermione spat.

   Draco feigned a look of understanding. "Not 'Mione then either, I guess? Okay, _Graaan-geer,"_ he said, letting every vowel and consonant roll of his tongue and making Hermione cringe. "Follow me."

   He turned and walked down the corridor, black cloak swirling in the cold air behind him. Hermione gave her cell one last fleeting glance, almost wishing to rot rather than follow Malfoy to her upper-class imprisonment. 

   _Not that I have much of a choice, _Hermione thought miserably. Draco was already at the corner. 

   "Come on Granger, keep up," he snapped. Hermione quickened her pace, not wishing to be lost in the dungeons. Draco seemed to understand that his "pet" wasn't going to talk to him; they passed through the labyrinth of cells in silence. Absently, Hermione wondered where Snape was being kept. She tried to pay attention to where she was going, but the dizzying number of dungeon cells caught her off guard. Only the hand that grabbed her arm stopped her.  

   Hermione was yanked back by Draco, who had a very firm grip on her arm. "Don't stray off course, Granger," he said in a firm tone. "I would expect a former Head Girl to know better."

   Hermione barely had the energy to muster a strong glare. Together, she and the blonde man climbed several winding staircases before they arrived in the entrance hall of the Malfoy Manor.

   Hermione couldn't help but gape. The room had to be at least as tall as the entrance hall at Hogwarts. The floor was made of fine, shiny black marble; there were tall, glistening white columns supporting the ceiling. Long tapestries that probably depicted centuries of Malfoy family history adorned the walls, and a sweeping circular staircase made of more marble lead upwards.

   "Impressed, Hermione?" Draco asked, leaning against one of the columns nonchalantly, as if this sort of thing happened daily. Hermione was so awed she couldn't even be bothered to correct his use of her given name. Draco stood straight, grinning somewhat viciously. "I know you're not used to such finery, Granger, you were brought up by those heathen Muggles, after all."

   Hermione closed her mouth with a snap. "You are an absolute bastard, Malfoy," Hermione said, almost in disbelief. How anyone could be so arrogant was beyond her. Draco grinned at her frustration. Hermione decided to take a different route. "Besides, I've seen better," she said casually, inspecting her fingernails.

   Draco turned slowly and looked down at her, at a loss for words. Finally, he settled for a quiet "Follow me, Granger" before leading her up the marble stairs. Several flights later, a winded Hermione was brought to the fourth flour of Malfoy Manor. Draco led her down a short, barely decorated hallway, which had one door at the end of it.

   Hermione stared. "Malfoy?" she asked, watching him draw a chain of keys from his robe pocket.

   The blonde didn't look up, but flicked through each of the keys in concentration. "_Yes, _Granger?"

   Hermione looked around. "Where the hell are we?" she asked.

Draco smiled in his concentration. "We are in the Malfoy Manor's guest suite," he said.  "Ah!" Draco exclaimed, finally pulling out the right key. "One of them, anyway," he added, unlocking the door. With a flourish, the door opened, and Hermione was ushered into another surprise.

   Draco gauged her reaction with a bemused look. Hermione used her Order training in order not to give any emotion away, but she was in awe once again. The room was large, but wasn't as daunting as some of the other rooms Hermione had seen in the Manor. In fact, it looked almost as though…

   "I'm guessing Voldemort didn't decorate this," was all Hermione could find to say, eying the pale blue color of the walls and watching Draco cringe at the Dark Lord's name. 

   Draco could only offer two words in reply: "My mother."

"Ah," Hermione said, testing the bed by poking a finger into it gingerly. It was huge and incredibly soft, Hermione conceded, but the bedspread was probably the gaudiest thing she had ever laid eyes on. It was a green coverlet with the Malfoy family crest in the center: a black fleur-de-lis with a green and silver serpent snaking around it. Hermione had only ever seen Narcissa Malfoy once in person, but she knew that the Society page of _The Daily Prophet _loved her. Word had it that Mrs. Malfoy was over the top, a Death Eater, a gentlewoman, a fantastic hostess, and the life of the party. The only conclusion Hermione was able to draw was that she had horrible tastes as a decorator.

   Draco snapped Hermione out of her thoughts with a "Hey! Granger!" Hermione snapped her head up.

   Draco continued. "My mother's maid will be coming up here in twenty minutes to," Draco's eyes traveled over Hermione's frame devilishly, "_dress you."_

Hermione chose to take the dignified response to this, and she merely glared. "I believe I can dress myself, Malfoy, thank you very much!" she said. 

   "In what, Granger?" Draco asked, eyeing her Hermione's tattered Order robes.  He strode over to her, so she had to look up at him to be eye-to-eye. "You don't belong to that pathetic, rag-tag band of rebels anymore. You work for Voldemort now."

   Draco held Hermione's gaze for a second, before turning on his heel and walking to the door. He had just shut the door when he seemed to remember something and came back in, a sort of malicious grin on his face.

   "You'll be having tea with my mother in an hour, Granger," Draco said, obviously relishing this nasty detail. "Brace yourself."

Hermione collapsed with a shriek of fury on the bed as soon as he was gone.

***

   Twenty minutes later, Hermione was roused from a deep sleep by a soft tapping on the guest suite door.

   "Hmmm?" Hermione mumbled, heading to the door and trying to remember whom Draco had said was coming, in between his smirks and malicious talk. Groggily, she threw open the door…

…and was greeted by one of the biggest surprises of her life.

   "Her-my-oh-nee!" 

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Lavender Brown?!" 

   Indeed, it was true. None other than Lavender Brown, Hermione's roommate at Hogwarts for seven years and the bane of her life when it came to anything that involved laughter, was standing in the hallway of the Malfoy Manor with a box of makeup under one arm and a magic wardrobe trailing behind her. 

   Hermione was at a loss for words. "What are you doing here?" Hermione finally asked, not believing her eyes. The last time she had seen Lavender was the morning of the battle, when the blonde girl had been working in the kitchens, serving breakfast. The last place Hermione expected to see the _Witch Weekly_-obsessive Lavender was in Malfoy Manor.

   Lavender smiled, displaying a row of teeth that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart jealous. "I work here, Hermione!" Lavender brushed past her former roommate into the suite. Hermione realized Lavender was dressed in expensive-looking black robes.

   "What…HOW?" Hermione asked.

Lavender grinned. "It's simple, Hermione," Lavender said, in her typical 'It's-all-good' tone, despite the fact that she was in the middle of a war. "I got captured. Narcissa—I mean Mrs. Malfoy—offered me the job as her personal stylist. Naturally, I took it…"

   While Lavender went off on a long-winded rant about how wonderful the Malfoy matriarch was, Hermione sank down on the bed in a fit of disbelief.

   _Voldemort must really be loosing his touch, _Hermione thought dazedly.   

***

   **A Very Important Announcement**

This is an actual review I have received. 

Did u write this?? I've read this same exact story before just with a different titile. I think u plagurized someone else's story because now i know that i have read this before even down to the Dr's name.  
PLAGURISM!I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU

--"Anonymus" 

Besides the fact that it's really spelled "A-n-o-n-y-m-o-U-s", **I have never and will never plagiarize anything.** This is a very serious matter to me, because if this reviewer has an ounce of credibility that means someone else is plagiarizing my work. If you having any information regarding this, please e-mail me. 

Now for the fun stuff, (i.e. My Excuses.) Eeeek! I haven't updated in nearly a month! Please don't send angry mobs out after me; I got tied up with Christmas, and then I've just finished finals. Grr. **Hoo needs skool neway, guyz?**

Reviews: I now have 73. OH MY GOD! You guys rock like whoa! 

**Me19**,** alka**, **tristanlover59**, **Luisa L** (evilly brilliant Voldemort kicks ass**), Unicorn13 **(It's actually kind of cool to be a September, because I get presents for going back to school. Hah), **chocol8skittle** (I blushed when I read that.)** Ms Lessa **(I love having you as a reviewer. You're terrific) **drunkonrumcake, hotaru420, Fumanskeeto, Harry's girl **(No, they're not together…yet) **dangelu881, Megan **(You're right. Those fics make me laugh) **Karlyn, Evil Cornbread **(nice pen name!) **Stupid_Girl_of_Cold, Aurora, Arbitrary **(And you thought YOU were a slow updater?!) **Amy, Zaid, Proud Mary **(In almost every one of my stories, someone ends up drunk. It's only a matter of time…) **Ottawan Angel, Allie, Elen of the Ways, **and** padfootsknightingale (thanks!)**

And also, my two Anonymous reviewers. 

   Thank you all kindly for not ferreting out where I live and stoning me to death for making you wait. I love you all.

**Be safe and happy.**

Mme. 


End file.
